It is courage, courage, courage, that raises the blood of life to crimson splendor. Live bravely and present a brave front to adversity

Here, or nowhere, is the thing we seek.

As riches grow, care follows, and a thirst For more and more.

And Tragedy should blush as much to stoop To the low mimic follies of a farce, As a grave matron would to dance with girls.

I prayed only for a small piece of land, a garden, an ever-flowing spring, and bit of woods.

Don't yield to that alluring witch, laziness, or else be prepared to surrender all that you have won in your better moments.

I shall not wholly die, and a great part of me will escape the grave.